


Anything to Save You

by esm3rald



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angry Harry, Being the Master of Death is a curse, Book 5: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Depressed Harry, Eventual Romance, F/M, Female Harry, Female Harry Potter, Harry suffers from Survivor Guilt, Harry suffers from lack of self-worth, Harry thinks her life is worth less than everyone else, Magically Powerful Harry Potter, Master of Death Harry Potter, Mentor Severus Snape, Severus Snape Has a Heart, Smart Harry Potter, Story from both FemHP and Snape's POVs alternatively, Suicidal Tendencies, Warning from the future
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:35:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27977454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/esm3rald/pseuds/esm3rald
Summary: Some hours before Arthur Weasley is attacked by Nagini, Severus receives a strange visit in his quarters. Now with knowledge of future events, he needs to decide what he's going to do with it. One thing's certain, he made a promise to protect Harry Potter no matter what, and that is a promise he intends to keep, what she herself said on the matter be damned. Since when does he listen to what Potter tells him to do anyway?Harry is confused. Snape is behaving strangely. He hated her, Harry knew, since the moment she set foot in his class. That is one of Harry's certanities in life. But he's being...well, not kind exactly but less antagonistic than usual. What is he up to? As if Harry didn't have enough things to worry about beside Voldemort, Umbridge, the Ministry, DA, classes and Quidditch and now Occlumency Lessons as well, and on top of that, the strange dreams she kept having of a corridor and a door. Everyone is keeping things from her as usual but this time Harry Is determined to find out what was going on. She's tired of being kept in the dark for her own good.
Relationships: Eventual Female Harry/Severus Snape, Harry Potter/Severus Snape
Comments: 15
Kudos: 97





	Anything to Save You

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I know I shouldn't start another story but this idea couldn't leave me alone and I had to write it. It won't be a very long story, max. 15 chapters but the chapters - like you can see of chapter 1 - will be longer than my usual one. Pretty much all of them 7'000-8'000 words each. It will be a little angsty in some places but nothing too dark. Just Harry having issues and Snape still being a stubborn bastard.
> 
> This story will become FemHarry/Severus romance eventually but no underage. Severus will be her mentor for a great part of this story and the romance will slowly develop from there. If you're not okay with Snarry, I advise you to read something else. For those interested, happy reading! Tell me what you think!
> 
> BTW, I imagine FemHarry looking like Danielle Campbell but with emeral green eyes and a little curvier in the chest department.

** **

** Chapter 1 **

_December 18th 1995, 11 pm – Severus Snape’s Quarters, Hogwarts_

“Professor? Professor Snape, wake up!”

Severus bolted upright in bed, summoning his wand in hand with barely a thought. A shimmering movement of fabric alerted him of who had just violated his private sanctuary even before he saw her face.

“Potter! What the hell do you think you’re doing? And how did you manage to get past my wards? I’m going to get you expelled for this! Albus will listen to me this time. The blatant disrespect for the rules you show on a daily basis…” He would have continued with his rant if he hadn’t noticed Potter’s looks.

She looked gaunt and thin like a skeleton, her complexion pale and with a grey hue, her eyes – so like Lily’s – surrounded by deep, purple shadows, her hair were flat and dull, framing her face like a curtain as black and oily as petroleum. She hadn’t looked like this when he had last seen her that morning. She had looked the same as usual, always a little too thin, but bright and vibrant and infuriatingly pretty as usual. “What the bloody hell happened to you?” He couldn’t help but ask.

Potter sighed, looking weary to her very bones and impossibly older than her fifteen years should allow. “I’m not who you think I am.” Severus was about to open his mouth when Potter kept talking, not giving him the time to object. “Oh, I _am_ Harry Potter but not the Harry Potter who is right now sleeping soundly – at least for now – in her bed in Gryffindor Tower. I don’t have much time and I need you to listen to me. I come for the year 2003, eight years from now exactly.”

“Are you trying to make me believe that you travelled back in time? The only method to travel back in time is a time-turner and the most it can bring you back is six months.”

“Well, of course it doesn’t exist in 1995. I invented this spell in 2001 but perfected it only a few months ago. It doesn’t work like a time-turner. It uses an object as an anchor and you can only travel on the same day you cast the spell – in this case the 18th of December. It only lasts a few hours and then I will be pulled back to my own time. It’s a small window but, hopefully it will be enough.”

“Enough to do what?” Severus’ confusion and bewilderment at the situation would probably excuse his tame reaction. He was sure the anger would come later. For now, all he could do was listen.

“I’m not sure where to begin. There’s so much I need to tell you. Let’s see. First of all, I know everything. About the prophecy, you and my mother, your promise to protect me. Everything.”

“How?” was all Severus was able to utter, words escaping him. Potter was never supposed to know, never. Dumbledore had promised him.

“I told you, I come from the future. And…you showed me your memories before dying.”

Snape got up from his bed then, feeling vulnerable all of a sudden and blaming his position for it. He transfigured his nightgown in one of his usual black robes and said, “If we are going to have this conservation we better go to my sitting room.”

“Very well.” Potter said, following him without saying another word until they were both sitting down in front of the fire and Severus had summoned a house-elf for some tea.

“Since we’re finally having this conversation I just wanted to say…thank you. I was never able to tell you this before but I’m very grateful for what you did for me, even if you didn’t do it for me. You still protected me and kept me safe all these years and you sacrificed everything so that Vold…the Dark Lord could be defeated.”

“You don’t need to thank me. Like you said, I didn’t do it for you and I’m the reason your parents are dead. You don’t own me anything, Potter.”

“You’re wrong. The only one to blame for my parents’ death was and always has been Voldemort. You, on the other hand, you’re the reason I’m still alive to this day. Why I was able to survive that Halloween night.”

“What are you talking about?” This conversation was becoming more surreal by the second and Severus wasn’t completely convinced that he wasn’t still dreaming.

“Dumbledore must have told you, surely.” At his look of confusion, Potter huffed and rolled her eyes.

“Of course, he didn’t. Always keeping secrets, always manipulating things from the shadows.” Potter sighed again, her anger gone as soon as it had come, almost like she couldn’t bear to feel anything for more than a few seconds at a time. She looked…empty, hollow. What exactly had happened to her to turn her into this creature before him? She looked like a corpse and behaved like an empty shell of a human being.

Potter continued, bringing him out of his musings. “You see, when you asked the Dark Lord to spare my mother, that was it. The Dark Lord tried to keep his word, because he was pleased by the information you brought him – the prophecy – and it’s not like he cared about her. His target was me. My parents were just in his way. So, he asked her three times to step aside. He would have spared her because you had asked him to but…my mother couldn’t step aside and let her daughter get killed, could she? So, she stayed put. She sacrificed herself to protect me. And that is what caused his own momentarily defeat. My mother’s protection shielded me against the killing curse, rebounding unto him.

“So, you see? I survived because of you, because of what you asked of him, and because, for once, the Dark Lord tried to keep his word. You are part of the reason the prophecy was even set in motion in the first place. You told part of the prophecy to the Dark Lord, he decided that the prophecy referred to me and not Neville and then you asked him to spare my mother. He tried to, but mom refused and that protection is what saved me and marked me as the Dark Lord’s equal at the same time. I’m the Dark Lord’s equal because he chose me as such. If he had chosen Neville, the prophecy wouldn’t have mattered. The Dark Lord would have managed to kill Neville because you wouldn’t have asked for Alice or Frank Longbottom to be spared. Voldemort would have killed them and then he would have faced no opposition when he’d try to kill Neville. And then, there would be no child of prophecy…no Chosen One. No one with ‘the power to vanquish the Dark Lord’. Voldemort would have won.

“It was a self-fulfilling prophecy, don’t you see? Voldemort is the cause of his own downfall. By trying to stop the prophecy from becoming true, _he_ made it come true. But without you, whether he had chosen me or Neville, it wouldn’t have mattered. _You_ had to be the one to tell the prophecy to Voldemort and _you_ had to be the one to ask for my mother to be spared. I know that this won’t do anything to relieve you of your guilt but know that it wasn’t for nothing. That everything happened for a reason and perhaps you would have preferred for Lily to live, even if meant Voldemort becoming invincible, even if it meant my death. I wouldn’t blame you for it, I would understand. You love her. _Always_. You spent all these years trying to atone for your past mistakes, all because of her. It’s admirable, this profound loyalty.

“Nobody has ever done anything like this for me. Not because I’m Harry Potter, the Chosen One, the only one who can defeat Voldemort, but simply because I’m Harry. The only thing _truly_ worthy about me. This scar on my forehead, the thing that marks me as the child of the prophecy. I should feel lucky. At least my parents’ sacrifice was worth something. Defeating Voldemort pays for all the lives lost along the way, doesn’t it? At least, a little? Does it make up for it?” Potter’s voice broke in the end but her eyes were dry, void of emotions, gaze lost somewhere far away.

Severus felt the sudden urge to console her, reassure her that the people Voldemort had killed weren’t her fault, that she wasn’t responsible for it. That she was a child caught up in a game far larger than her. That there was more that mattered about her than a scar. But he didn’t. Of course, he didn’t. Severus didn’t console or reassure anyone. And he didn’t even like her much anyway, he reminded himself. “Why are you here Potter? What made you do something so reckless and stupid as trying to alert time?” He asked instead.

Potter smiled at him, a smile so hollow and sad at the same time that Severus felt like someone had taken his heart out of his chest and was squeezing it right in front of him. “Dumbledore’s plan worked. I managed to defeat Voldemort. But everything went so wrong. The price was too high. I had to try and make things right. I need you to change things, fix them.”

“Why me?”

Potter shrugged. “Because you’re the only one who can. Because you’re the only one I can trust with this.”

“What about Dumbledore?”

Potter smiled again, but her smile was bitter this time. “Dumbledore would turn what I’m about to say to you in yet another game of chess, using all of us – even himself – as expendable pieces. He would only make things worse. Or he would think the price was acceptable and do nothing, all for the greater good.”

Severus sat straighter in his armchair and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “I’m listening.”

Potter nodded, took a deep breath and then began. “After Vold…the Dark Lord’s return at the end of my fourth year, Dumbledore started to suspect the means He used to achieve immortality, the reason why he managed to survive the killing curse rebounded upon him the night my parents were killed. Dumbledore didn’t want to tell you, fearing the Dark Lord would find out through you that we discovered how to kill him. But there’s no one I trust more to keep this secret than you. You fooled the Dark Lord for years, I don’t see why you would suddenly fail now.”

“What is it? What is the Dark Lord’s secret?”

“Horcruxes.”

Severus paled, feeling sick to his stomach. “Horcruxes? As in, more than one?”

“Seven of them to be precise. I know their locations and I know how to destroy them. I need you to do it for me.”

“Naturally. Therefore, once all the horcruxes are destroyed, he will be mortal once again.”

“Yes. And, at that point, it will be possible to kill him.”

“What are they?” Severus asked, eager to listen now.

“One was the Diary, the one I destroyed in my second year. The one used to open the Chamber of Secrets.”

“You destroyed a horcrux without knowing what it was you were destroying? Only you, Potter.”

Potter grinned, but it was a pale imitation of her usual mischievous grin. “I was lucky enough to manage to stab the Diary with one of the few things capable of destroying a horcrux. A fang from a basilisk, which obviously contained basilisk venom. And, since I stabbed the basilisk in its mouth with the Sword of Gryffindor, which is made with goblin metal, the sword absorbed the basilisk venom and so it too can be used to destroy Horcruxes. So, you can choose really. Fiendfyre, which I’m sure you can cast and control it. The fang of a basilisk which is still inside the Chamber of Secrets, together with the rest of the basilisk carcass, or the Sword of Gryffindor. Or, hell, you’ll probably manage to create some kind of potion with basilisk venom that can destroy the Horcruxes, I don’t know. You’re the potion genius after all, I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

Severus ignored the strange pleasure he felt at Potter, of all people, acknowledging his capabilities and asked, “and the others?”

“One is at Hogwarts. It’s the Diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw and it’s inside the Come and Go Room, or Room of Requirements, specifically in the Room of Hidden Things. That’s how the elves call it anyway. In fact, we – as in, Ron, Hermione and I – are using this room for our DA meetings. I’m sure you know what I’m talking about, you being part of the Order and all.”

Severus raised an eyebrow. “I do. And, as much as it pains me to admit it, it is a good idea. With that awful woman as a Defence teacher…well, you need all the help you can get. And you are…somewhat competent in Defence against the Dark Arts, enough to help your classmates anyway.”

Potter widened her eyes in mock astonishment. “A compliment from Severus Snape? I must be dreaming.”

“Don’t let it get to your head, Potter. Your ego is big enough as it is. Your head gets any bigger, it could float away from your body if you’re not careful.”

Potter grinned again. “Ah, now I recognize you. For a moment I was worried I was talking to an impostor.”

“So, where is this Room of Requirements and how do I get inside?”

Potter explained to him that it was on the Seventh floor and that he just needed to walk three times back and forth in front of a blank wall opposite the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy trying to teach Trolls how to do ballet. “You just think about what you need and a door will appear. In this case, you need to think about hiding something – an object or whatever – and the door for the Room of Hidden Things will appear. It’s this cavernous room, filled with staff students and teachers I imagine, have hidden all over the years. You need to look for an old cupboard, and over it a pockmarked stone warlock wearing an old wig and a discoloured tiara. That tiara is Ravenclaw’s Diadem.”

Severus quickly memorized the information in his head and nodded.

“Do not try to touch it. I’m pretty sure the Dark Lord would have put some nasty curse on it.”

“I’m not daft, Potter.”

“I know. Far from it. But I still wanted to warn you, just in case.”

“What about the others?”

“One is Slytherin’s Locket, which is inside Grimmauld Place. You see, Regulus Black had figured out the Dark Lord’s secret and because of it, I imagine because of he was horrified at his Master willing to rip his soul apart so many times to achieve immortality, he betrayed him. The Dark Lord had asked him to help him with some protections for the horcrux inside this cave and he wanted to sacrifice Kreacher – you know, the House of Black’s elf – for it. Regulus saved Kreacher and asked him to destroy the Locket but Kreacher was never able to. That’s part of the reason he became a little mad. Because he was never able to fulfil a direct order from his Master. Regulus, unfortunately, remained trapped inside the cage and probably got killed by the Inferi there. The Locket is still inside number 12, probably in Regulus’ room. Since you have access to the place, I’m sure you’ll be able to find it.”

Severus nodded and waited for Potter to continue. “Then, we have the Gaunt Ring. I don’t know how much you know about the Dark Lord’s childhood, so I’m going to summarize it. He was born Tom Marvolo Riddle the 31st of December 1926 to Merope Riddle née Gaunt and Tom Riddle senior. The former was a witch with very little power who was also one of the last of Salazar Slytherin’s descendants. House Gaunt was very proud of this, but the last of them had been driven mad by their tradition to marry family members for centuries to keep the bloodline pure. And I’m not talking cousins marrying each other, I’m talking brother-sister, uncle-niece etc. Anyway, the last members of House Gaunt were Merope, her brother Morphin and their father Marvolo. Merope fell in love with a muggle – Tom Riddle senior. She bewitched him, probably with a love potion, and they got married and Merope became pregnant with little Voldemort. Merope, probably wanting to believe that her husband had really fallen in love with her, stopped giving him the potion and Tom senior – after being raped for years – left her while she was pregnant.

“Merope, with no family to go back to – marrying a muggle caused her to be cast out by her father –, no husband and very little money, ended up on the steps of an orphanage about to give birth on New Year’s Eve. She died in childbirth and so, little Tom spent his first 11 years of his life in a muggle orphanage on the verge of World War II. Not a pleasant place for a child to grow up, let alone a magical child. I can’t imagine the abuse he had to suffer through. Not that that justifies what he became but…I guess I can relate, a little. Then, on his eleventh birthday, Dumbledore showed at his orphanage to tell him about the Wizarding World and let me tell you, things could have gone better. Dumbledore should have definitely been kinder, more understanding of the situation. Instead, he tried to scare him into submission and Tom being Tom…well…he didn’t react at all how Dumbledore was hoping for. A deep dislike on both parts was formed that day. Who knows how things would have turned out if someone else, someone who knows what is like to grow up with abusive muggles had told him about the Wizarding World instead. Perhaps nothing would have changed, perhaps he was always meant to go bad, but we’ll never know, I guess, right?

“Anyway, he went about charming his peers and gathering followers at Hogwarts. He was sorted into Slytherin House, of course. They probably thought him a muggleborn at first but he probably showed them his ability to talk to snakes and that, with the fact that he was probably one of the most powerful and talented students Hogwarts has ever seen, gained him the respect of his housemates. Then, in his sixth year, he opened the Chamber of Secrets and created his first Horcrux, the Diary – using it also as a way for the Chamber to be open again and his task completed since he didn’t manage to finish his work during his Hogwarts years.

“Then, the summer after his sixth year, since he had at that point figured out who his parents had been and had realized that his father was still alive and had abandoned him, he went to Little Hangleton where both Morphin Gaunt, the only one still alive of the Gaunts, and Tom Riddle and his parents still lived. He killed his father and grandparents – using his father’s death to create yet another Horcrux – before going about framing Morphin for their murders. The Horcrux was the Gaunt Ring, one of the two precious mementos the Gaunts still possessed, that and the Slytherin Locket. While the Gaunt Ring had remained in Morphin and Marvolo’s possession all these years, Merope – once she had left her home – had taken the Locket with her before selling it to Borgin and Burkes in her desperation for ten galleons. Tom, after Hogwarts, went looking for it and that’s why he started working as a clerk for this particular shop in Nocturne Alley. And that’s how he met Hepzibah Smith, a direct descendant of Helga Hufflepuff and in possession of both Slytherin’s Locket and the Hufflepuff Cup. So, he killed her – and using her death to turn the Cup into another Horcrux.

“The Ring is hidden underneath the Shack where the Gaunts lived. Make sure to destroy it before Dumbledore finds it. He found it before my sixth year and he decided to wear it because…well, that’s a story for later. He got cursed and while you managed to slow it down, it would have killed him sooner or later.”

“It would have killed him? So, it wasn’t the curse that killed him?”

Potter smiled. “Of course, you picked up on it. No, it wasn’t the curse that killed him but Dumbledore managed to turn his own death into a checkmate for our side. You see, in January of this year, the Dark Lord will manage to free his old followers from Azkaban. You know, the Lestranges, Dolohov, Rockwood, Travers, Mulciber…all those who didn’t renegade on the Dark Lord when he first fell. His most loyal ones. And then, in June – exactly the 20th of June – I will be lured into the Department of Mysteries by the Dark Lord to grab the prophecy for him, so he will be finally able to hear it in its entirety. My mind and Voldemort’s are connected. Well, in truth, there’s no two people more deeply connected than us. I could see through his mind, especially this year. He could influence my thoughts and feelings without even meaning to. It was like his mind was a radio channel and I was picking up on his signal. I was so angry all the time this year, short-tempered. It was like I was on the constant verge of losing it completely and Umbridge being here didn’t help matters. When he finally realized that I was seeing what he was seeing, sometimes, he sent me a false vision of Sirius. He led me to believe that Sirius had been captured and he was being tortured.”

Severus had the urge to roll his eyes but he refrained. “And you, like the thoughtless, reckless Gryffindor that you are, left the safety of the school to rescue your beloved mutt.”

Potter didn’t get angry like she would usually, like Severus was expecting she would. She didn’t even look mildly bothered by his comment. She only shrugged her shoulders. “Yes. And then the Order came for me, Sirius included. And he started to duelling Bellatrix in the room with the Veil and he was hit with a spell and sent through the Veil. He died because of me. Because, like you said, I was reckless and thoughtless. And because I didn’t manage to learn Occlumency and therefore I wasn’t able to keep the Dark Lord out of my head.”

“You will try to learn Occlumency?”

“Yes. Dumbledore’s idea. After the holidays, Dumbledore will ask you to teach me Occlumency – I mean, who better than you, really? – but it will be a complete disaster. You will treat me like crap, like usual, telling me to close my mind without telling me how to, without teaching me how to keep my mind blank. You would just rape my mind over and over, forcing me to relieve my worst memories and mocking me for them, and I would be unable to block you, keep you out.” Severus flinched at the expression she used and he would be inclined to believe that Potter was being her usual dramatical self if not for the fact that he knew exactly what it meant, having your mind invaded with force, disregarding your feelings completely, a mental assault that felt invading on the most primal level, that left you feeling violated physically and emotionally, just like an actual physical sexual assault would.

He felt sick to his stomach at the idea that he did something like this to her, Lily’s child, but he also knew why Dumbledore would have asked him to. The Dark Lord used Legilimency in that way, a mental assault that could as well be physical for the brute force he put on it. Using a gentler method wouldn’t have prepared her to withstand an attack by the Dark Lord if he had tried to invade her mind. Potter – as loathe as he was to admit it – was very talented and powerful, though often lazy and stubborn and relying too much on her bookish friend instead of her own abilities. But he believed she had the ability to learn if she only put her mind into it. She was one of the few people in the world who could fight off the Imperius Curse. Perhaps his methods had been too forceful, and Potter, already mistrusting of him, had refused to learn from him altogether. And perhaps he hadn’t explained the theory behind it because he had believed that a more hands-on approach would have worked better for her, like it had done in the past – he knew from Lupin that Potter had learnt the Patronus Charm thanks to a practical approach and it was the approach that usually worked best with her. Potter had little patience for theory.

“Instead, all it would do would be to make my mind even more vulnerable and open to attacks then usual.” Potter kept talking and Severus shook off his musings and kept listening. “Like I said, complete disaster. And those lessons ended when I looked into the Pensieve where you stored your memories. After that, you refused to teach me altogether. I didn’t see enough to figure out about you and my mother, but I saw enough to know that everything you had told me about my father and Sirius was true. They were bullies, bullies like my cousin. And I hate my cousin because I hate bullies. It’s the reason why I rejected Draco’s offer of friendship, because the first thing he did, even before introducing himself, was to insult Ron, my very first friend. I didn’t take that revelation well, and I didn’t take well the fact that you were right.

“And, that reminds me, I never apologized for that. I’m sorry if I invaded your privacy like that. I wasn’t trying to…I didn’t mean to…” She shook her head, trying to find the right words to explain herself. “I just wanted to know what was being kept hidden from me and I knew that if someone would have known it was you. I kept having these dreams of a door at the end of a long corridor and I knew that it looked familiar but I didn’t know what it meant. And I knew that you and Dumbledore were aware of what it was. Sirius had told me that the Dark Lord was trying to acquire some kind of weapon and I just knew that it was about me. And I was so upset about that, about everyone hiding things from me – everyone would always do that, they didn’t even tell me about Sirius being my godfather or the one who had supposedly betrayed my parents when he escaped from Azkaban and it was my right to know, more than anyone, _I_ should have known.

“I was the one who witnessed the Dark Lord coming back to life, I was the one who was there when Cedric was murdered, I was the one who duelled him and barely escaped with my life and no one would tell me anything. Everyone kept telling me that it was for my safety but knowing the truth, all the truth would have kept me safe. Not bits and pieces that I kept learning by mistake, but the whole ugly truth. About you, about the prophecy, about the Horcruxes, about…about _me_. Everything. Instead Dumbledore kept me in the dark until the very end and I kept being strung along like a puppet on a string, ready and eager to do his bidding because I thought he knew best. But he _doesn’t_ know best. He’s an old man that thinks that his age makes him wise and all-knowing. But he made mistakes, big ones. And he still keeps repeating them, never really learning from them.” Her eyes shone for the first time that night, a look of such deep pain and disappointment that Severus wondered once again what the hell had happened to her to reduce the lively, vivacious child that she usually was into this wretched husk in front of him.

“But I best return to my tale. As I was saying, I went to the Department of Mysteries, I retrieved the prophecy for the Dark Lord, but luckily, I manage to keep it away from him. It was destroyed and the Death Eaters present that night, except for Bellatrix, were captured again and sent to Azkaban, Lucius Malfoy among them. The Dark Lord was forced to show himself that night and finally the Minister of Magic – after seeing Voldy with his own eyes – was finally obligated to admit that the Dark Lord was back. As punishment for Lucius’ failure, Draco was marked and tasked by the Dark Lord to kill Dumbledore, a task the Dark Lord expected Draco to fail. Narcissa came to you, asking an Unbreakable Vow to protect Draco and finish Draco’s task if her son would be incapable of fulling it. You had no intention of going through with it, willing to die instead of killing Dumbledore but Dumbledore himself told him to kill him. He was dying because of the curse of the Ring and his death would have served to turn you from simple Inner Circle Death Eater into the Dark Lord’s favourite, his right-hand man. He gave you the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, knowing very well you wouldn’t remain at Hogwarts more than one year. Draco managed to find a way to have the Death Eaters enter the school. He repaired an old Vanishing Cabinet whose twin was at Borgin and Burkes and so the school was attacked. Draco hesitated in front of Dumbledore, lowered his wand, unable to kill, and so you did it for him, mustering all the hatred you felt towards him in that moment for asking you such a thing and powering your Avada Kedavra.

“I witnessed the whole thing and since Dumbledore never bothers to tell him his plans, I really thought you had turned on us. At the end of my sixth year, now aware of the prophecy and the Horcruxes and with the task ahead of destroying them, I spent the next year trying to find them, unaware that you kept helping me from behind the scenes. Until the night of the final battle came. With only Nagini left to be destroyed, only a few days after Ron, Hermione and I retrieved the Hufflepuff Cup from the Lestranges’ vault at Gringotts, and having just finished to destroy the Diadem in the Room of Requirements, we traversed the secret passage that from Hogwarts reached the Shrieking Shack, just in time to witness Voldemort setting Nagini on you. Not because he had figured out that you were a traitor. As far as he knew, you were as loyal to him as ever, but because he thought you were the real Master of the Elder Wand and since he wanted to own that wand, you were in his way and needed to die. I arrived just in time to watch you bleed to death on the floor of the Shack, unable to do anything to help you and still unaware that you really had been on my side all along. But, before dying, you manage to leave me your memories and that’s when I found out everything, not only about you but also about me, what I really was and what I was supposed to do.”

A feeling of dread enveloped him and it wasn’t at the news that he would die killed by the Dark Lord’s pet in the place where he had almost died when he was fifteen. It wasn’t a pleasant thought but he had never thought that he would live past the war after all, not after completing his mission and making sure Potter would be triumphant against the Dark Lord.

He almost missed the comment about the Elder Wand, but there were more important things to worry about at the moment. “What were you supposed to do?” He asked in barely more than a whisper.

“You’re so clever, Professor. You haven’t figured it out yet? My scar, my connection to Voldemort, the fact that I can see through his head. My ability to speak parseltongue. I should have realized it but, in my defence, I didn’t really want to believe it and so the possibility never even crossed my mind.”

It was like he had been hit with a freezing spell. “No…no…it’s not possible. No human being has ever…no…”

Potter shrugged, like what she had just told him hadn’t just turned his world upside down. “Yes. A pig for slaughter, those were your words. Very fitting; a little raw but fitting. Yes, I was the Dark Lord’s horcrux, or, to be more precise, my scar was. And the only way to destroy the piece of soul inside me was, of course, for me to die – not just die, I needed to offer myself up as a willing sacrifice, and the Dark Lord had to be the one to kill me.”

“But you’re alive…”

Potter grinned, a grin so full of self-deprecation and self-mocking that he flinched again. “In a manner of speaking. Oh, yes, the Dark Lord hit me with the killing curse and I did come back to life after that but…well, let’s just say that death never leaves you unscathed. There’s always a price to pay.”

“Is that why you look so…?” He gestured vaguely with his hand but before he could finish his sentence Potter interjected.

“Like a walking corpse? No need to mince words to spare my feelings Professor. I can see what I look like in the mirror. Not a pretty sight. And that’s the least of it, my appearance I mean. You see, three things allowed me to return to life after Voldemort hit me with the killing curse. One was the fact that not only the Dark Lord and I were bound on a soul level, but that he had even used my own blood to resurrect himself and create himself a new body. I had a piece of his soul in me and he had my blood running through his veins. Second, like I already said, it wasn’t enough for me to die. It wouldn’t have been enough for me to die by his hand in the mist of battle or for me to die by accident. I had to be _willing_ to die, I had to ‘greet death like an old friend’. And third, at the moment of my death, I was the rightful owner of all three of the Deathly Hallows.”

Severus startled a little, though at this point he already had a hint of what was going on.

“I guess you’re familiar with the Tale of the Three Brothers of Beedle of the Bard?”

“Yes.” Severus replied. “Are you saying that the three gifts of the story are real?”

“They are. And you know two of them. The first, the wand, is in Dumbledore’s possession. The wand he uses every day, that is the wand he took from Grindelwald when he won the duel against him in 1945. The Elder Wand, the Death Stick etc. The second one is my Invisibility Cloak, the one I inherited from my father and my father from his father before him. The Potter family is descended from the younger of the true three brothers of the story: Antioch, Cadmus and Ignotus Peverell. The Dark Lord through the Gaunt family is descended from Cadmus.”

“The Ring.” Severus said in realization.

Potter nodded. “Yes, the stone in the Gaunt Ring is the Resurrection Stone of the story. Dumbledore, once he recognized the Stone for what it was, put the ring on his finger without thinking. I’m not going to tell you why because that’s not my story to tell but, let’s just say, the temptation of contacting and talking with someone he had loved and lost was just too much for him. I’m sure you can understand the urge.”

Severus didn’t answer if not with a very small nod that looked more like an involuntarily jerk of the head. He would give everything to speak with Lily one more time and Potter clearly knew it. “So, you manage to collect all three Hallows?”

“Not really by choice. I had already the Invisibility Cloak without knowing what it really was. The Stone had been left from me by Dumbledore while the wand came to me a little unorthodoxly. Draco had managed to disarm Dumbledore the night he let the Death Eaters into the school, and that day he became, without knowing it, the Master of the Elder Wand. When I disarm Draco months later when Ron, Hermione and I were captured by snatchers and brought to Malfoy Manor, I became his Master. You see, you don’t need to kill the owner of the Wand to become his Master, you just need to disarm him with an Expelliarmus and the Wand becomes yours.”

“But, I’m guessing the Dark Lord didn’t know that. So, because I had been the one to kill Dumbledore he thought I was the owner of the wand and he killed me for it.”

“Yes. And now, I need you to promise me that you’ll do what I ask you to or the last few years I spent inventing the spell to go back in time would be wasted. First, destroy all the Horcruxes as soon as you can. Don’t let Dumbledore find the Ring. Remember: Diadem in the Room of Requirements, Ring in the Gaunt Shack, the Cup inside the Lestranges’ vault at Gringotts, the Locket in Grimmauld Place and then Nagini. Three should be pretty easy to retrieve and destroy, the other two…I’m sure you’ll manage somehow. Second, I know you hate him, but don’t let Sirius die. Please. Stop me from going to the Department of Mysteries, do whatever you have to but stop me. This way Sirius won’t die. I might have realized that he wasn’t perfect and that, no matter how much I might have wanted to, he wouldn’t have been the best guardian for me anyway but I still love him. He’s the only family I have left and I know you hate me too so you probably don’t care about that, but please, I’m beginning you, don’t let him die and don’t let it be my fault. And please, during the final battle, try to stop Remus and Tonks from dying. They will have a child, Teddy, and he doesn’t deserve to grow up without parents. If you can, try to save them. And third, when the time comes, don’t let me come back.”

“What?” Severus said, sure he had misunderstood.

“Don’t let me become the Master of Death. That should be enough. I will sacrifice myself so the horcrux will be destroyed and then I will stay dead like I was supposed to. That will make the Dark Lord mortal once more and I’m sure, at that point, you or Dumbledore will be able to finish him off. Or you could kill me yourself. That should do it too. I’m sure Dumbledore thought about it but couldn’t go through with it. But you can. You’ll do what needs to be done, like always. If it comes down to it, it’ll be better if it’s you and not Him.”

Severus got up to his feet then, suddenly furious beyond belief. “You arrogant girl, my only purpose all these years has been to protect you and you would ask me to…” He couldn’t even finish the thought.

Potter didn’t even flinch. “Trust me, death is a thousand times better than the fate this Harry would have to suffer if everything goes like it did in my timeline. When I returned I was alive but…different. It took me a while to realize it but…it was like a part of me had stayed dead, had remained in the Limbo I visited after death. Everything felt distant, or _I_ felt distant. Like my emotions were dulled. I couldn’t _feel_ like I used to. Things that I was passionate about before, I didn’t care about anymore. The people I care about…I couldn’t stand to be near them anymore. Not even Ron and Hermione. I felt detached. Like I wasn’t even there, like I was seeing through someone else’s eyes. Hermione said that it was probably PTSD because of the war so I went to a Mind Healer. But it wasn’t that. It was just the first symptom. I started to not to feel hungry or thirsty anymore. I didn’t feel the need to sleep anymore. And when I would force myself to eat or drink something, everything would taste like ashes. Whatever it was that had happened to me when I died, it had left a mark on me and it was consuming me. I stopped aging, frozen eternally in my seventeen-year-old body. I was barely alive but incapable of dying. I can’t feel anything, not the breeze or the sunlight on my skin, not the cold or the warm weather, not a caress on my cheek. _Nothing_. Being the Master of Death is a curse. Yes, you’re immortal but it’s the sort of immortality that makes you _wish_ for death.

“So, please, make sure I stay dead this time, all right? I know that I probably deserve what happened to me and that you don’t care about me at all but please do this if not for me, then for _her_ , for _Lily_. And please, save yourself. You know how you died in my time, I’m sure you’ll be able to prepare an antidote to Nagini’s venom. All you have to do is be prepared. You can save yourself if you want to. And that reminds me, in a few minutes Dumbledore will call you into his office. Mr. Weasley has been attacked by Nagini in the Department of Mysteries. I dreamt about it, dreamt I was Nagini attacking Mr. Weasley. Luckily, I did or Mr. Weasley would have died. But they manage to save him because he was found in time. You could probably use Mr. Weasley’s blood to create an antidote, right?” Then Potter grimaced and said, “well, my time is almost over. I just wanted to say one last thing before I go…I love you, Severus.”

“What?” Severus said, sure he had misheard.

“I know you’ll never love me, that you hate me in truth and that’s alright. But you were the only thing that didn’t disappear from my heart after I died. The only thought that stayed constant within me. I love you. I just wanted you to know that. And loving you makes me feel like I’m not completely dead inside. So, thank you.”

“Potter, wait…” he said, noticing she was beginning to disappear. “What will happen if I change events like you want me to?”

“Why, I’ll disappear, of course. Trust me, I wish for nothing more than to fade into nothingness. Goodbye, Severus.” And with that last sentence uttered, she was gone.


End file.
